


Hush Now

by yikesola



Series: giving the people what they want [11]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2012, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, getting caught (almost), whataboutadam is their houseguest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 19:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: Having a third person in their flat isn’t as intrusive as Phil had feared it might be, much as he liked Adam and was happy to help him out while he apartment hunted in London. It all goes smooth enough, until about three weeks in when Phil wakes up hard and aching for his boyfriend who’s on the other side of the rice paper wall between them.A fic about discretion and low risks.





	Hush Now

Having a third person in their flat for most of September isn’t as intrusive as Phil had feared it might be, much as he liked Adam and was happy to help him out while he apartment hunted in London. He and Dan had only been living down south a few months themselves, and they remember perfectly well how stressful it was finding a decent flat for a decent price with a decently low number of violent murders in the disclosure forms. 

Besides, it wasn’t like they were hosting someone who didn’t, well, _get it_. Adam was also a YouTuber; Adam was also gay. 

He and Dan hadn’t said anything conclusive to Adam, hadn’t given him any new information about their relationship just because he was sleeping on the sofa bed in their office. But Adam’s been around the internet a long time, as long as they have, and he’s seen enough tweets and gone to enough meetups back in the early days where Dan and Phil weren’t so guarded, and well... there’s every possibility he’s put two and two together. 

Phil doesn’t think he’d mind if Adam has figured it out. It’s only in recent months anyways— with their intimidating influx of followers and their move to a much more expensive city and their desperate need to keep the BBC happy if they’re to have any hope of steady work there— that they’ve decided to be more low key. Not that they weren’t always coy about being together, they’re just more careful these days about what they say and who they say it to. A YouTube glitch, nearly one year ago now, which Phil still feels raw and guilty and exposed from sometimes, was luckily squashed as much as they could hope. 

Things were okay. They weren’t outed, they weren’t blacklisted. 

But it meant being a little more careful. It meant things like letting Adam see them head into separate bedrooms every night. It meant things like shower sex and sofa blow jobs just weren’t gonna happen for a few weeks. 

Which is fine. Frustrating, sure, but fine. 

Both he and Dan have endured different levels of being closeted their entire lives; they’re not lying to Adam and they’re not changing who they are. They’re just being on their best behaviour, like when they go to visit Dan’s family or attend YouTube conventions. 

It all goes smooth enough, until about three weeks in when Phil wakes up hard and aching for his boyfriend who’s on the other side of the rice paper wall between them. 

He checks the time on his phone, surprised by how early it is: half eight. That’s early, considering how late he and Dan and Adam had stayed up playing _Carcassonne_ and drinking cheap wine that tastes just as good as the expensive stuff if you have enough. 

And they’d certainly had enough. 

He isn’t feeling hungover, thank goodness, but he doesn’t think he could fall back asleep if he tried. And he wants three things so badly he thinks he might go insane without them: a tall glass of water, a buttery marmalade-y toast, and Dan. Dan like he hasn’t been able to have him for weeks. 

It’s not like they’ve been entirely high and dry. There have been several times where Adam was out looking at flats or seeing friends of his own and Phil would pull Dan into one of their beds or Dan would lean against their dining table and lament the loss of their breakfast bar before leaning further and they made do. But those have always been to scratch an itch, they’ve been to take advantage of the time while they still had it. 

Phil misses their leisure, slow mornings making each other feel good and loved and wanted— he missed not having to keep one ear open for Adam. And at the same time, he sighs and tries to be sensible. Adam’s going to be out in a few days anyway. Once he’s gone, Phil’s sure he’ll miss the little family the three of them formed, in some way. 

But Adam isn’t gone yet. And Phil certainly doesn’t miss him yet. 

He crawls out of bed and decides to grab the first two things on his crave list since they are things that a houseguest he’s closeted around can’t deny him. He gulps the water and munches the toast. He doesn’t hear a peep from upstairs, or from Dan’s room. He wonders if he’s the only one that lucked out in terms of a hangover. Serves them right, he thinks, teasing him for being an old man. Just means he can hold his drink. 

As he’s walking back toward the bedrooms, he stops and listens again for any sign of life from the office above. Nothing. Still dead asleep. 

Phil can only be sensible for so long. 

He cracks open Dan’s door, sees his boyfriend curled up under a lump of blankets, and slips inside. He shuts the door behind him quietly, crawls under the covers quietly, gets his arms around Dan quietly. He kisses Dan’s jaw, neck, shoulder. He pulls him tight to the long line of his body. 

Dan inhales sharply, slowly blinks his eyes open, turns around in Phil’s arms to face him. “Morning, you.” 

Phil kisses him. “Morning,” he says. “I missed this.” 

“Mmm,” Dan says sleepily, shuffling closer. “Time is it? When’s Adam gonna be back?” 

“It’s almost nine,” Phil says, reaching up and tracing a finger along Dan’s nose, Dan’s cheeks, Dan’s brow bone. “Adam isn’t out, he’s still asleep.” 

Dan stiffens at that. “What?” he whispers, “Are you crazy? Get outta here!” 

Phil pouts. “But I missed this,” he kisses Dan quickly, “I miss you.” 

“He could wake up and come looking for us any second.” 

“He’s a worse late sleeper than even we are,” Phil says, “And he drank about a bottle more than either of us last night. Please, Danny, I’ll make it so good, I promise.” His grin is wicked, and unnecessary. Phil always makes it good. Dan has told him so. “Just have to keep it quiet. Don’t want to wake him.” 

“The walls in this flat are paper fucking thin,” Dan says. “And keeping it quiet is not my strong suit, mate.” 

Despite these valid points, Dan twists his legs with Phil’s. He bends to kiss him. He sighs happily when Phil bites at his lip. 

Phil’s skin is buzzing with how badly he wants this, Dan right here right now. And with the inherent naughtiness of doing something they shouldn’t be. But the risk is so low, really. Adam is far from the worst person to be out to, and the only thing they’re risking really is the embarrassment of a friend walking in on them fucking. So he isn’t too bothered when he sits up to throw the blankets to the ground and moves to straddle Dan and the headboard slams against the wall. But Dan’s eyes go wide at the noise and they both still, listening sharply for any signs that Adam heard them. 

There aren’t any, and after a few seconds they both sigh in relief. Phil reaches for one of the discarded blankets and shoves it between Dan’s low black headboard and the wall, hopefully muffling any further noise. 

Phil’s finally got Dan beneath him like the third and most important of his early morning cravings. He’s shirtless and in a pair of blue music note pants that once upon a time belonged to Phil. He’s soft and sighing beneath him, eyes on Phil’s face, so much bare skin being offered Phil hardly knows where to start. 

He starts simple, Dan’s lips, kissing him through the morning breath and the sluggishness which seems to be how Dan’s hangover has presented itself. Kissing him until he needs more, until he moves down the path his lips had traced when he first slipped into Dan’s room— down his jaw, neck, shoulder. 

Soon Dan is fed up being the only one doling out attention. He lets out a whine and makes grabby hands to pull Phil back up to him and tug at the neck of his shirt.

He pouts when Phil shushes him for the whine but is happy enough when Phil pulls the shirt off and tosses it aside. His fingers move to the patch of hair at Phil’s chest, then down along Phil’s ribs, then up to Phil’s nipples. They move in their paths on one another, good familiar paths that they love to tread.

Phil still has the advantage of being the one straddling, he’s able to move lower and lower on Dan until he’s biting at the jut of hip and all Dan can reach is Phil’s hair where he’s threaded his fingers.

Phil works to lower Dan’s stolen (borrowed) pants and licks a long stripe along the length of him.

Fuck, it’s good, Phil thinks.

“Fuck,” Dan says, “it’s good.”

“Quiet,” Phil reminds him, giving another long lick before taking the head in his mouth.

Dan shows amazing restraint for Phil having his cock in his mouth, something that always elicits a whimper. Or a string of them. Instead he’s letting out heavy, throaty breaths that could almost pass for grunts. Phil finds them sexy in a satisfying way. He works lower down on Dan’s cock as he hardens, and soon even Dan’s best efforts are not enough. He lets out a low moan, one that rises in pitch.

Phil lifts his head. “Danny, quiet.”

Dan nods, but the fingers tangled in Phil’s hair are already tugging Phil back towards his cock so Phil really isn’t sure if Dan’s nodding can be trusted.

It can’t be. There’s another moan less than a minute later. It’s met with a siren from down along their busy street, and Phil can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. The siren might drown out the moan, sure, but the siren itself might wake the whole building.

It passes. Phil sits up and Dan watches him as he takes his own pyjama bottoms off. He reaches over towards Dan’s bedside drawer but can’t find what he’s looking for.

“Fuck,” Dan hisses, “Fuck, lube’s still in your room from last time.”

Phil knows they’ve taken too many chances, knows between the headboard and the siren that it’d guarantee enough noise to wake Adam up if he stumbled to his room right now. For all he knew, he’d try to tiptoe over only to hear Adam awkwardly clear his throat from the stair.

So he ditches the plan of fucking Dan right now. Who says Phil Lester can’t be adaptable?

Dan groans out a quiet, “C’mere,” from where he’s still panting on the bed and Phil bends back over him.

His dry cock aligns with Dan’s spit-slicked one and their kiss becomes a mutual gasp as the feeling sinks into them for a second. Any form of closeness is enough right now. It’s enough to be breathing Dan in, it’s enough to hear his whispered pleas, it’s enough to reach down and wrap his hand around the both of them the best he can.

He takes his time. Even switches to his left hand when he gets a cramp, then back to his right after he’d recovered enough. He whispers close to Dan’s ear things only he can hear, even with the thin walls of their old building.

Dan comes first, with almost no warning except a sound louder than either of them expected. Phil tries to swallow it down with a kiss. 

Then Dan’s hand reaches down to encourage Phil to keep going and the thought of Dan’s eagerness for even a little overstimulation is enough to get him over the edge. He comes almost silently, more adept at stealth than Dan though he admits Dan tried his best.

They lay together after with their bodies pressed tight, despite the heavy breaths and mess and overheating. They’re just hungry for this closeness. They want as much as they can get while they can get it.

Eventually, their breathing evens out. Eventually, they separate and clean as best they can and get dressed.

Phil opens Dan’s door slowly, silently. He hears nothing from the office, still, thank goodness.

He’s halfway to the kitchen when he hears footsteps on the stair— not upstairs to the office, but downstairs to the bathroom. Phil’s anxious alarm bells are sounding in his head by the time Adam appears smelling of body wash and with a towel wrapped round his head.

Later he and Dan will pour over the possibilities, that Adam may have heard them when he went down to the bathroom, but also that all their noise might’ve been drowned out by the shower. For now though, he can feel the blush scorching his face. Despite Adam’s casual, “Morning, Phil!” as he heads to the next flight of stairs, he’s convinced, absolutely convinced they’ve been caught.

At long last, his legs start working again and he makes it the rest of the way to the kitchen to get a coffee started. He’s still shaken, he’s still unsure how much Adam knows or suspects.

And he’s also pretty fucking sure it was worth it. Low risk, after all. And the feel of Dan below him? High reward.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/186703297689/hush-now) !


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